


"Pretty Earrings, Keep Them On"

by Munchingpotatoes123



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Modification, Darius wasn't a good dude, Domestic Boyfriends, Earrings, Emotions, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I LIKE THAT THAT'S AN ACTUAL TAG, M/M, Needles, Past Abuse, Symbolism, Therion (Octopath Traveler) Needs a Hug, Those last two are only mentioned, Unhealthy Relationships, gay shit hits different at 1am, idk im sad and tired, kinda ??, kinda ???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchingpotatoes123/pseuds/Munchingpotatoes123
Summary: Alfyn brings up something from Therion's past, and helps him heal from it in more ways than one.
Relationships: Alfyn Greengrass/Therion, Past Darius/Therion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	"Pretty Earrings, Keep Them On"

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for needles and past unhealthy / manipulative relationships. Also implied unhealthy power dynamics, because in the flashback sequence Therion's 14 and Darius is 17, although that's not explicitly mentioned.
> 
> I wrote most of this late at night plz excuse how rushed it may sound hshs

The night was slow, as it usually was.

Therion, Alfyn, Cyrus, and Primrose arrived at Quarrycrest just two hours prior on Cyrus’ behalf, apparently he was looking for a book about Hell or something or other, Therion didn’t exactly care. Nor did he listen, for that matter. That all sounded like Cyrus’ problem anyways, and Therion was just tagging along for the ride  _ (despite his  _ **_very_ ** _ well-expressed interest in heading to Noblecourt first and foremost but, whatever, not like he had more pressing matters or anything). _

They arrived into the miner’s town at approximately 12 in the morning, once they’d managed to stumble past rocks and rickety bridges in way-too-fucking-humid-for-a-scarf nighttime weather, Therion hated how much he’d sweat on the trip over, it made him look pathetic heaving like a dog in the sun. But that was then, and this was now, and now consisted of cardboard-esque bedding at a shitty town inn, with the thinnest blanket imaginable draped over his and Alfyn’s resting forms.

But, well, it could be worse. It definitely beat camping out in the middle of nowhere, here they actually had  _ doors _ , with  _ locks _ on them, so the thief wouldn’t have to worry about getting attacked by a random pack of vultures or traveling bandits while trying to rest. And, while he wouldn’t dare mutter it outloud, having Alfyn’s arm wrapped around his waist was nice as well.

The weight and pressure of his hand was comforting, oddly-so, and with the faint touch of moonlight streaming through a filtered curtain, it should’ve been the perfect atmosphere for a good night’s rest. Therion should’ve gone to bed as soon as his head hit the pillow, especially after such a grueling trip over; he’s fallen asleep in much less...ideal environments before.

However, that just wasn't the case for whatever reason. There was an odd restlessness shared between the two boys, he could read it through Alfyn’s little twitches and the adjustments of his fingers against the simple fabric of Therion's shirt. Despite his easy, mellowed breaths, he could tell that the apothecary wasn’t actually asleep.

“Can’t sleep?” The thief’s voice felt like static in his throat. 

Alfyn replied with a soft groan and a gentle adjustment of his arm, “Was I really that obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised at this point.”   
“You really shouldn’t,” Therion felt the other boy’s grip slacking, “So, what’s bothering you?”

“Hm...I’m not actually bothered by anything, or at leas’, I don’t think I am,” Alfyn propped his head up on Therion’s messy mop of hair, “Nothin’s really on my mind. Guess I’m just...not tired.” 

The other boy didn’t reply, he didn’t feel the need to or even know what to say, so his lips stayed pursed as the sharp chirping of a cricket occupied the air.

There was a beat of silence before Alfyn spoke up again, “Hey, how come I didn’ notice you had earrings?”

“Earrings?”

“Yeah, earrings,” The apothecary flicked at the simple, ivory-colored jewel on Therion’s ear, “I mean, I guess it sorta makes sense, considerin’ you’re a thief an’ all, but I dunno...I guess I jus’ never noticed until now.”

_ I nearly forgot about those _ , he thought. Therion curled in on himself just a smidge, enough to be noticeable but not enough to be immediately alarming; not like how he tried to make himself smaller during a panic attack, but of the same spirit.

“...You alright?”

“Yeah,” The slight vibrato of his voice betrayed the thief’s intended aloofness, “I don’t really like thinking about those though.”

“Oh…” Alfyn’s tone mellowed to a quiet register, “Is it...does it have anything to do with  _ him _ ?”

_ Him  _ was their shared code-name for Darius, and in fact, it did. Therion didn’t reply though, the permeating silence was answer enough, and Alfyn dropped the topic with a quiet ‘Sorry…’ as he nuzzled into the other’s hair.

Sleep had to come eventually, it was just unwise to stay awake throughout the night. Gradually, Therion began drifting away, his thoughts growing more abstract the more he stared off into the night, with nothing more than an unpleasant knot in his stomach accompanying him, dreams and memories melted across his eyelids.

~

_ “Aw c’mon, don’ be such a twist abou’ it,” Darius’ voice sent shockwaves through Therion’s ears, loud and booming like a timpani drum.  _

_ “Sh-Shut up,” His protests came out loose and flimsy, “I just...don’t like needles, ok?” _

_ The older thief’s laughter felt mocking, and heat rose to Therion’s face. “You’re scared a’ needles, are ye’ now?” _

_ The other didn’t reply. _

_ “Well it’ll all be over soon ‘enough, I reckon’. Worth it too. You’d look real nice wit’ these,” Darius twirled a shiny little bead in between his fingers, it’s gleam mirrored in his eyes. His praise quelled Therion’s nerves. Even if it was just a bit, the smaller thief had always sought after Darius’ validation. _

_ Therion’d never before considered wearing earrings, in fact he kind of hated the idea.The look made him come off a lot more...regal, refined, not like the misshapen mess of expectations and lies he was when he was 14. Despite making a living off of dishonesty, the idea of betraying that image of himself made his stomach churn. _

_ Well there was, of course, another layer to it. A much simpler one. He just hated needles, a lot, he’d never so much as gotten a shot in his life, so the mere concept of having a stranger poke an inch-wide hole in his earlobes made him squirm in his seat. _

_ The suggestion of the earrings was an unexpected one from Darius. It was right after a recent heist, they twirled their spoils in between their fingers, as thieves and naive teenagers often do, before he brought it up; _

“I think ye should ge’ earrings.”

“Why would I ever do that?” His tone came off a lot more incredulous than he’d liked, to which Darius answered with a glare that made the younger boy sink into his shawl a bit.

“It’d make ya’ look cuter, Gods knows ya’ need it, with tha’ attitude.”

“Right, sorry…”

_ It was as simple as that. Despite the illusion of it, Therion didn’t have a choice in the matter any more. It was like that whenever Darius had suggested they do just about anything. The “I think”s and question marks were nothing more than courtesy. _

_ And so here he was now, sat on a three-legged stool at some shady underground bar, trying to quell the panic hammering at his nerves as strangers with gloves polished all sorts of sharp tools and implements.  _

_ ‘How much of that do you need just for a godsdamned ear piercing?!’ _

_ “Alrighty, got the needle just about ready,” One guy sounded. His voice was rough and scraggled, like the edges of sun-baked rocks in the Cliftlands. Therion hated it. _

_ “Hold still.” It was more a command than anything, as the white-haired thief felt tempered hands tug at his ear-lobe and the burning-cold tip of a needle press against it. _

_ Therion was shaking. Hard. He hated it. Hated the feel of the needle and the tension right before the piercing. Hated how weak and pathetic he seemed at the moment. Hated how Darius’ shoulders, shaking with slight laughter, haunted the edge of his peripheral vision. Hated the heat of embarrassment rising to his face. Hated the stupid piercing man’s stupid voice. Hated the smell of must overwhelming the seedy bar. Hated earrings. Hated the sour clench of tears burning the back of his eyes. And for a moment, if only brief, he hated Darius. _

_ But, he could never hate Darius. _

_ He wouldn’t dare hate Darius. _

~

The next morning was unpleasant, yet not unfamiliar. He woke up with a dry headache and a heavy tongue, almost as if he’d had a hangover or something. Unsurprisingly as well, Alfyn’d been up a bit before him. He was adjusting his satchel right as Therion kicked his feet over the mattress.

“Morning!” His voice was as peppy as it usually was, that is, until he got a good look at Therion, and his expression dimmed with worry.

He must’ve really looked like dirt then.

The thief stared at the ground for a bit, combing through last night’s unpleasant memory. Don’t get him wrong, he’d much rather think of the stupid earring situation rather than his usual affair of nightmares, but it still wasn’t exactly ideal.

Alfyn must’ve noticed the heaviness in his eyes, because soon after he said, “Rough sleep?”

Therion nodded, but didn’t vocalize an answer. Instead, a beat of silence passed.

“How long ago did you get those piercings?”

“Hm?” The thief jerked his head upwards, a little shaken up still from the sudden disenfranchisement of the nightmare, “Oh, uh, well...I’d say about eight years or so.”

Alfyn’s eyes widened, but just a bit, “Really? And you haven’t taken them off or changed them out since?”   
“Nah, never tampered with ‘em since I got ‘em.”

“Ah, jeez,” The Apothecary let down his satchel with clumsy hands, “That can be really dangerous, y’know? You could’ve gotten an infection or something. Do you…” He paused, “Is it alright if I take a look at them?” His voice had mellowed to something barely above a whisper. Regardless, Therion nodded, and Alfyn took a careful seat behind his boyfriend on the bed.

He pushed his hair out the way to which Therion had, embarrassingly, leaned into. Damn him and his touch-starved youth.

“Hm...well, I can’t really take a good look at it unless I take ‘em off, you don’t mind, do you?” 

“Not at all, go ahead.”

Alfyn’s hands felt a lot lighter than that of the piercing guy’s, maybe the lack of gloves helped with that, or the almost-chilling absence of a cold needle against his earlobe. Either way, it felt kind of nice.

“There we go...hm,” There was a beat of silence, “Wow, looks like you lucked out, no infection or anything.”   
“Mmm...that’s good,” Therion wasn’t exactly paying attention to Alfyn’s words, because as soon as the apothecary's hands had peeled away from his skin, Therion had instead taken the moment to rub over his empty piercings. It’d felt…

_ Strangely blissful.  _

A wave of relief had washed over him in that moment, like an eight-year-old itch finally scratched. Alfyn seemed to take notice of his comfort, and smiled something radiant. A moment of silence passed between the two of them, it was simple, almost dream-like, but at the same time oh so real.

“Well, uh…” The apothecary leaned back a bit, “You should probably let those piercing heal over, since they’re so old I think they’re kind of stressed, so you might experience some itching or mild discomfort as they close over the next week or two,” He waited for a response, but it didn’t come, “And I think that’s all you need to know. If the itching gets really bad I can apply a salve over it or something, and don’t go on touching it too often, that way it doesn’t get an infection..”

He stood up as to leave, but Therion moved to cradle the other’s hand in his as he did so, “Hey...uh,” His voice was uncharacteristically shy, something he couldn’t help but scold himself internally for, “...Thank you. Really.”

Alfyn’s smile was something in between knowing, radiant, and smug, but it was bright just the same. “It’s alright, I just wanted to do what was best for you,” His voice had the same muffled quality as Therion’s. Once more, they shared a moment of simple, elegant silence. Neither of the two had to say anything to communicate their thoughts to each other, and Therion couldn’t help but embellish in that aspect of their relationship.

In a sense, Alfyn was pretty much everything Darius wasn’t, despite their similar builds and shared affinity for green being initially off-putting to him. He couldn’t help but think of how good he had it now, especially whenever he rested his hand on his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> that concludes Therion's Traumatic Experience At Claire's
> 
> and now for a review from local enby;  
> "Im gonna attack darius like a wild animal"  
> thank you lychee, very cool !


End file.
